


Mutation

by piggylover29



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Electroportation!Michael, Emetophobia, Hemophobia, I forgot who created the ideas for the mutants! Comment if you do!, I suck at tagging, Save Jeremy, The first chapter is literally just angst, Wings!Jeremy, ask to tag, mutant!au, slightly graphic? there's blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-16 09:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11250660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggylover29/pseuds/piggylover29
Summary: Jeremy experiences some "growing pains."Rated teen for minor swearing and blood.





	1. Pain

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic ever! Let's make it angsty. Constructive criticism welcome.

Jeremy was freaking the fuck out. Not exactly in the whole 'oh, my parents bought me a car!' sort of way, but in a bloodier, extremely painful sort of way. His dad was out for the night; business this, business that, like he was forced to every couple of months. Which meant when his son screamed bloody murder at approximately 1:30 am on a Sunday, he was all alone with the exception of the tremendous pain in his back.

The high schooler awoke with the sound of his own scream; terrified and writhing. It felt bad. It felt horrible. It felt as if something or someone was in his body, stabbing its way through his back in a desperate attempt to get out. He bit his lip to hold back another scream, hoping not to alert any neighbours but _holy shit_ was it hard. He slowly and carefully rose from his bed, grabbing his phone and stumbling his way to the bathroom.

 _Blood._ Jeremy felt blood wet on his back as he struggled to the bathroom. His mind was attempting to race, but the pain was fighting with him for control of his body. He collapsed onto the toilet and opened his phone, calling one of his only friends: Michael. Michael would know what to do- and if not, with that kid's weird device-traveling powers, he could probably get over to his house and comfort him in a matter of moments. He was strange in that way.

The phone rang. And rang. And then it clicked, signalling the start of a call. "What the hell, dude? It's like, one in the morning! Why-"

Jeremy whined loudly, doubling over on himself, grabbing onto the side of his sink hard to keep from falling off his toilet.

"-What the fuck. Are you okay?! What was that?!"

Jeremy dropped his phone on the ground, letting out a yell. Michael transferred through the phone immediately at the yell, concerned. The shorter boy turned to Jeremy, his glasses lazily put on in the rush. If Jeremy wasn't in pain or bleeding, it would be a sight to behold. Unfortunately, both of those were true.

Michael covered his mouth when he saw his best friend, eyes widening. This is so much worse than he thought. The back of the toilet wasn't white, but stained red. Jeremy was trembling horribly, looking like he was about to scream again. Instead of screaming, he quickly got off the toilet to retch into the sink.

Michael almost threw up himself, seeing the state Jeremy's back was in. His shirt had ridden up to his mid-section, no doubt from tossing in turning in bed, but it was _stuck_ on his midsection by blood. A lot of blood. Michael felt tears well up in his eyes from just seeing the state his best friend of practically forever was in.

Then something caught the eyes of the boy: purple. There were two distinct bumps under Jeremy's ridden-up shirt, and something purple and black peeking out from under it. Michael assumed whatever it was was actually blue and black, and the blood mixed into the object and made it purple. Or it could be purple. The only thing that really mattered right now was _what is it_ and _why is it under Jeremy's shirt?_

"Okay, uh, buddy, you're going to have to work with me here, alright?"

Jeremy nodded quickly, trembling harder.

"I'm going to take off your shirt, alright? There's- fuck, Jer, there's something under it."

Jeremy whined loudly but nodded again.

Michael took a deep breath, slowly moving his hands to where Jeremy's shirt was bunched up. He quickly got it off of the whining boy, before he threw up yet again. Michael stumbled back, hitting the wall, confused and surprised at what he saw.

 _Wings_ protruded from Jeremy's back. Black, purple and blue feathers were plastered to his shirt, back, and _wings._

Mutant. Jeremy Heere was a mutant. Jeremy Heere, like his best friend Michael Mell, was a mutant. But Jeremy found out in a way worse way.

Michael swallowed. "Oh no- ohnoohnoohno."

Jeremy whined in a questioning manner, looking up at his friend from the mirror. His voice came out wavering, his throat hoarse from throwing up. "W-wh-at?" 

"I'm so sorry. Oh my fuck. You don't-" Michael stopped, seeing how Jeremy became even more panicked. "U-um! It'll be fine, Jer-bear. It'll be great. Amazing."

"L-Liar."

"I know."


	2. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Jeremy have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys wanted some more, hopefully you like two high schoolers talking for 600 words.

It was a good couple of hours before Jeremy calmed down fully, Michael sitting through the entire situation with him. Where the new appendages grew from was still bleeding, albeit now not at a life-threatening pace, meaning both could calm down. The two were a bit sleep-deprived, having stayed up for longer than either of them was used to.

Jeremy felt an uncomfortable tension, mumbling, "So. Wings."

"Yeah."

"Uh... What do I do-?"

"Do you think I have a clue?" Michael picked at his skin. "You should probably tell your dad, first of all."

"I don't know what he'd do, though! What if he kicks me out? I'm a freak!" Jeremy stared at the floor.

"He wouldn't kick you out, and you were already a freak, so basically nothing changes."

"Gee, thanks. But now I have **wings** Mike! I'm like a bird or something!"

"Fair point."

After two sat in another awkward silence for a couple moments, Michael piped up.

"You think you can fly or something?"

"Jeez, I dunno, I wasn't thinking about _flying_!"

"I'm trying to look on the bright side! Lighten up the mood or something." 

Jeremy nodded, a thought suddenly coming to mind. "Shit... What am I going to do about school in two days?"

"One day, but... Um. That's actually a really good question. Call the principal?"

"And tell her that I mysteriously grew wings overnight?!"

"You _did_ mysteriously grow wings overnight, though."

"Right..." Jeremy groaned. "She'll probably call my dad. He'll freak out from three states away."

"Ugh. Great. Doesn't your dad get back in like, five days... What about school, then?"

The two went on and on, deciding on a plan: go to school, immediately ask to talk to the principal (with the help of Michael), and wing it from there.

"What if they can't do anything. Everyone'll think I'm weird!"

"Jer, one, everyone already thinks you're weird, two, you know there are other mutants at our school, right? And some of them are kinda cool?"

"There are?"

"Do you pay any attention? Ever?"

"Shut up!" Jeremy crossed his arms, acting mad before curiously asking, "... Who?"

Michael chuckled. He thought for a moment, before replying. "You know the chick you really like?"

Jeremy definitely knew who Michael was talking about. Christine Canigula, his big-time crush. "Christine?"

"Yeah, her. She can totally shapeshift."

"What?!"

"Yeah! I heard from Jenna."

"Jenna Rolan?" Michael nodded. "You're trusting what she tells you?"

"Oh shut up. She's reliable sometimes."

"Probably not! Anyway, I would know if Christine was a shapeshifter."

Michael smirked. "'Cause you're always staring at her?"

"I- N- Okay, yes, but shut up."

"Pfft, no. Anyway, some people don't exactly want to get judged by just being a mutant, right? Why would she just shift in front of the whole school?"

"I hate it when you're right. Fine. We'll do the thing on Monday and if it doesn't work out, I'll just be 90% more of a loser."

Michael rolled his eyes. "Shure. We'll always be losers together, though. So look forward to that!"

"Or I'll be so un-cool that even you don't wanna be around me!"

"Uh, impossible."

"You'll see!"

"Whatever, dude. Am I sleeping over or going?"

"You have enough energy to go to your house?"

"...I'll be on the couch." Michael got up. "Night."

Jeremy sighed, exhaustedly standing up after Michael. He replied "Yeah. Night." before walking off to his room, a bit disoriented at the added mass and weight. Michael chuckled at him, walking off to the couch to try and get some sleep. Both collapsed and fell asleep almost immediately.


	3. Holes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Michael brainstorm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you guys started to notice I'm bad at chapter titles? Or that I literally only write at 2-3am because i write better when I'm procrastinating™️? 
> 
> Sorry I wasn't on for a while! Family stuff, self confidence stuff, blah blah.
> 
> Contents: Minor cursing, Michael wasting good clothes, Michael using Elizabeth as Jeremy's middle name (even though that's not what it is), fluff but it's not gay™️ because they're bros™️.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the horrible planning from the two boys, but either way, a problem still remained. Jeremy had nothing that fit him - or specifically, fit his new wings. What was he supposed to do? Walk into school _shirtless?_ Because he didn't have that much confidence and-

"I got it!" Michael snapped his fingers and smiled. Jeremy scooted closer to him on the bed, nodding for him to go on.

"We'll just, like... cut holes in some of your shirts! And then you can-"

"Walk around with my fucking wings out. All over school."

"I mean, that's pretty cool, actually."

Jeremy seemed to think over it for a minute. "But-"

"Nope. Shut your mouth. No buts. What shirt are you good on mutilating?" Michael got up, taking a step over to Jeremy's closet before starting to look through the shirts.

"None of them?!" Jeremy scooted over to the edge, watching Michael choose which shirt to practically ruin. Michael snickered and picked one out, holding the obviously old t-shirt up to show Jeremy. "Pikachu?! When did you buy this, middle school?"

"My dad bought it for me during that time where I was _super_ into Pokemon, okay? Shut it." Jeremy grumbled, blushing a bit in embarrassment and looking away.

Michael chuckled, putting it back. "Whatever. It's cute."

"Not."

"Dude, Pikachu in any form is undeniably cute."

"...Bleh."

"Jeremiah Elizabeth Heere, are we in seventh grade? Did you just 'bleh' me?"

"Ughhh."

After a long fifteen minutes for Jeremy, but a hilarious fifteen minutes for Michael, the latter stopped looking at everything in the former's closet. The best part: Jeremy totally denied still keeping most of the stuff, which means his dad kept it for him.

"You wear basically the same thing every day. Let's just take your least favourite striped shirt or something."

"Noooo," Jeremy whined. "I like all of them."

"Then just get your ass up here and pick out literally anything for me to cut some holes in." Michael looked down at the boy on the bed, expectantly. The taller rose up, sticking his tongue out at Michael, before grabbing a shirt and pushing it into his friend's hands. 

"There. Do your worst." Jeremy plopped back down, stretching out his wings a little.

Michael rolled his eyes, sitting next to him and starting to cut large, crude holes in the back of Jeremy's shirt. "So you can... move them?"

"Uh-huh. It's weird."

"Weird how?"

"Like... You know how you move your arm and fingers and stuff?" Jeremy made a little motion, sticking his arm out and moving his wrist in circles.

"Yeah?" Michael looked up for a moment, before going back to cutting.

"It's like that, kinda. Like, it looks weird, realistically, but it feels natural or whatever. Like two arms. But weirder and more sensitive."

"Huh."

"That's it? 'Huh'?"

"Sorry Birdy, you want me to make a speech. 'Oh, that's so tasteful! It's absolutely profound!'" Michael mocked Jeremy with a bad British accent, and both of them laughed.

"You done yet?" Jeremy watched Michael impatiently.

"Jer, dude, it's been less than two minutes and I'm trying to make this comfortable and look decent."

"You're not doing a good job, Mich."

"Shut up. I'm trying. I'm here in your hour of need, you distressed damsel!" Michael chuckled again before giving Jeremy his modified shirt. "But yeah, I'm done. Try your Jer-enhanced clothes." 

Jeremy rolled his eyes at his friend, slipping on his shirt with a little difficulty. He managed to get it on, though, and it worked as it was made. It probably made him look like a dork, though, with holes cut out of the back.

"Feel good?"

"I mean, it doesn't hurt."

"Progress! Now let's do that to all your shirts!"

"Michael. Put the scissors down. Mich. Don't-" Goddamnit.

**Author's Note:**

> This super blew up and I didn't expect it to! Thank you for all the sweet comments! From now on, I'll probably only reply to comments with questions/critique/jokes/something that catched my eye.
> 
> <3 all of you for reading up to this point btw!!


End file.
